Friday, July 31, 2015

Test driving Windows10...hhmm...


So, I’ve decided to give the new Windows 10 a test drive on my laptop before I put it on my precious rig.

So far, I’m really unsure. I’ve spent the night/morning (its 3am right now) cruising around the features of Windows 10.

There are pro’s and con’s.

I am really thinking of rolling it back to my beloved Windows 7 though. It allows you a 30 day grace period to roll back without affecting anything. Very considerate of them.

I dont like the look of the window boxes at all. The tiles on the start menu are neat, but I’ve found I’ve unpinned most of them, so why bother?

I’ve been using Windows 7 since it was released on both my laptop and my rig. I think I’m die hard for it, but, I will keep playing with 10 on the lappy to see if I warm up to it. I’ll give it maybe two weeks?

I’ve been reading every available article I can find on Windows 10, seeing what other people have to say about it, as well as tips, tricks and tweaks people have discovered.

I know Windows 7 inside out.


But…I’ll suck it up and give 10 a shot at least as a test drive.

Anyone else toying with it?

Any thoughts?

I’d love to hear what you all think, if your giving it a try, or if not, what your reasons are for sticking with your current OS.

Thursday, July 30, 2015

Let them burn: A short story (RP Based)

Here’s a little peak at Addison, something not included in the book, The Road of Darkness. Just a little bit of the things she does with her idle time.


Usually she practiced her prayers and invocations upstairs in her attic. But tonight was different. Tonight was for special things. Special people. She needed a good old fashioned dirt floor, the wine cellar, under her bare feet and a small wooden work table, the wax of hundreds of previous candles hardened from top to bottom to look as if a multicolored frozen waterfall.
For tonight’s workings, Addison chose green, black and white candles. And a single gold in the center. They were already dripping as she started her workings. On the work table she had several fetishes set in a line. She couldn’t use her usual voodoo dolls, because she couldn’t collect everything she had needed. But the fetishes worked just as well.
She knelt upon the ground in front of the table and took pen in hand and started writing names, over and over and over, names, names, and more names, all on their own slips of paper. She would write someone’s name on a single slip of paper as many times as she could fit it on there. She then picked up the gold wax and placed a single drop on each and every slip of paper.
She said a small incantation and blessing to her gods and goddesses before reaching for fetish after fetish, stuffing a named slip of paper into its folds of fabric, tying it off with random old keys and bailing twine. There were over fifty of the little fetish dolls scattered over the work table by the time she was done.
Addison looked over her handiwork, giving a nod while blowing a long strand of hair from her face. She reached across the table and grabbed a jar of an unknown powder. She wiggled her toes in the cool dirt of the wine cellar and smiled, before moving a foot to smooth out the dirt once again. She got down on her knees, using her hand to smooth the dirt further, before reaching to pull her hair back, to keep it from obscuring her work.
She dipped her hand into the tan colored powder in the jar next to her, cupping her fingers slightly to pull out a small amount. From there, she began a design on the floor. At first, it didn’t seem like much, but after hours of laboring at it, it was indeed quite elaborate. A sigil for a particular god and goddess. A sigil whose lines crossed and intersected, because, as in this City, most everyone’s lives crossed and intersected at some point. But not hers, not anymore.
This was her revenge. This was her spot of fun. To many, she was a harmless little fool. To some, she was no one at all. What a mistake.
Voodoo can push and pull odds. Payment to the proper gods and goddesses can earn you favor, or, shift odds where you seek.
And there were many now, who Addison though needed a little push off the ladder, so to speak.
When bad things happened to bad people, she could say…’I had a hand in that.’ And when bad things happened to good people? She could say she had a hand in that as well. No one was making an effort anymore, why not fuck with their luck.
Oh, some would say they didn’t believe in what she did…her little voodoos and hoodoos. She didn’t care. What mattered is that their name was within a fetish, now connected to a grand sigil and she was offering gods and goddesses tokens of cigarettes, wine, bourbon, peppers and other little things.
No one would really know it was her. They’d just think ‘well fuck, how about that? Damn my luck…’.
This was almost more fun than throwing Holy Water, for the mere fact that the victims don’t see it coming. And she had so many in her intricate sigil, crissing and crossing.
She gave a bow of her head, striking a match on an old matchbook. She watched her little world burn for a moment before setting the sigil on fire, watching as the small flames moved, as if they had a thought of their own, taking their own direction, stalking its victims in order.
The small traveling flame finally died out after it ate away the powder. When the incense created by the powder hung in the air, Addison picked up a seagulls wing, using it to swoosh the plumes of smoke over the fetishes.
She knelt down on the floor once again. Daybreak would arrive soon. This had been a good night of ritual. Addison drank a shot of bourbon and said a prayer in thanks.
She left the cellar, off to bed for her. Addison petted and baby talked to her herd of cats while she made her way up the staircase, off to a void where she could watch the world burn.

[Mature content] Blood and Sex: A short story (RP Based)

This is an RP told from both characters prospectives. Of course, its just a bit of smut. COME ON…who doesnt like a lil vampire smut? And this one is TAME!

Robert took a seat on the edge of the bed; his crisp, white shirt running delicately across his pale flesh. He sat the garment aside, leaving his torso bare. “Livia…” He said her name so softly as he reached out to graze his fingertips along her cheek. It was time for her to wake, and for them both to bask in one another’s presence.
Livia’s eyes fluttered open to the soft sound of Roberts voice. She looked to him a smiled, lifting an arm and resting it above her head on her pillow. She pulled the blankets up over her naked form with her other hand for modesties sake, even in front of her own husband.
He returned the smile, letting his touch fall to her shoulder. “Did you sleep well?” he asked, letting his hand linger upon her skin for a moment before withdrawing his touch altogether. Robert allowed his gaze to wander, until returning his attention back to her youthful face.
She smiled and stretched her body some. “Yes, I slept well. I dreamed of cats.” She said softly before moving to sit up a little on her pillows. She pulled the blankets with her to hide her breasts and her small form. “Did you sleep at all?” She asked her husband.
“I did… I went out to feed, and came back to find you still asleep.” He licked his dry lips and rested his hand upon her knee. “What made you dream of cats?” he asked calmly, showing genuine interest in the woman.
She offered a small smile. “I love my cats. I suppose that’s why I dream of them. When I’m not dreaming of them, I’m dreaming of you…sometimes I wake and snuggle even closer to you, to make sure you’re really there.” She said, a tint of blush staining her cheeks. “I’m not hungry, strangely. I don’t want to go out tonight.” She said, resting back against the headboard.
His smile grew. “You dream of me…” he said quietly “What are in these dreams?”
She smiled softly. “They are always so beautiful and peaceful. Sometimes we are alone in the jungles, or the beaches. Always alone, just you and I, feeding on those we find wandering. We are one with nature. It’s lovely…” She hushed out.
Robert chuckled and reached out to cup her cheek. He truly found her to be so adorable, so lovable. The man stroked his thumb across her skin, letting his fingertips trail her lips and jawline. “We have peace… And, we are alone.”
She nodded. “I like what we have. I wouldn’t trade it for anything. I can be myself with you, even when I go through my emotionless phases. I’ve changed in your care.” She said, leaning into his touch.
“You have, Livia… I’m proud of you.” He brushed her crimson hair aside, revealing her milky neck. Robert leaned closer, hesitating, at first; such intimacies haven’t been shared in so long, he wanted her to feel comfortable. His lips finally touched hers, the blissful contact lingering for a moment.
Livia welcomed the kiss. It was slow and delicate. She pulled back from him to look into his eyes, resting her hand on his handsome face for a moment, holding his cheek. She leaned forward again to kiss him, allowing this one to deepen gradually. She sighed out against him, a pleasurable sound, as her fingers moved from his cheek to slick back through his hair gently.
The deeper kiss was pleasant; he applied his own passion, letting their tongues intertwine in the seductive dance. Robert finally pulled away, his dark gaze seeking her own. “I’ve missed you,” he whispered.
“Oh, I’ve missed you, too, my love…” She said, taking his hand in hers. He felt warm, a sign that he’d fed, and fed well. “You’re so warm…” She said, bringing his knuckles to her cool lips, placing a kiss there.
He felt the corner of his lips turn into a smirk. “I have been overcome with desire,” he said, as if attempting to charm his wife with his sweet tongue. Robert then stood from the bed and brought his hands to the front of his trousers. His eyes, not once, left her beautiful face as he returned to her side.
She took in Roberts words, watching his every move. She blushed a little, feeling a small bit of inadequacy from sleeping so long. “I could…try to fulfill those desires…” She said softly. “If you wanted me to…”
Robert’s cold, hard features softened at her current demeanor. “I have no attraction to other women,” he said; “I waited for you, for so long.” He took his place upon the bed, letting his hand rest near her body.
“You’re a good, faithful husband and I love you. I want to please you.” She said softly to him, letting the blankets drop from her upper half, revealing her breasts to him to do as he pleased. She laid down on the bed once again, resting comfortably next to him. She was his for the taking despite her weakness.
“Mm, but first…” He brought her hand up to his neck and forced her nails into his skin, drawing blood. The message was clear. “Go on,” he urged.
Livia moved to wrap her arms around him, lifting herself up to his neck, licking at the blood that spilled forward before wrapping her lips around the wound, drinking from him. She wasn’t all that hungry, but this was Roberts’s blood. It was full and sweet and heady. She reveled in the taste, delighting in how it made her feel. When she had her fill, she pulled away and took an unneeded breath, a tint of color filling her pale skin once again.
Robert was pleased to know she took her fill; he didn’t like it when she held back. “Full?” he asked calmly, reaching up to dab away the excess from her lips.
She looked up into his eyes and offered a small smile. “Mhm…” She hummed out. She licked at his fingers as they passed over her lips.
He could feel the corner of his lips turn up into a mischievous smirk. Robert dipped his fingers past her lips, letting the tips graze her tongue. Once he was tired of that, the man leaned forward to capture those lips in a slow, pleasurable kiss.
She melted into the kiss, her arms resting comfortably around him. She closed her eyes and savored every second of it. His gentleness, his softness, and the natural way their tongues moved and danced across one another. It felt so good, she shivered, causing her exposed nipples to become erect.
The vampire lowered his hand to her breast, palming the soft flesh as he deepened the loving gesture. Robert wasn’t one to be so gentle, but he knew Livia enjoyed it; and he would push aside his own ways to please her. He withdrew and brought his lips to her neck, letting the soft kisses linger here and there as his hand massaged the ample globe.
Her eyes still closed, Livia let her head fall back, exposing more of her slender neck to him. She hummed out in pleasure to his hand at her breast. It felt wonderful to be touched. His hands were rough and warm. Beneath the blankets, her thighs were heating, the juncture between them pooling with that pleasant tingle of arousal.
Robert smiled against her skin, the nipple between his thumb and forefinger being pinched and fondled gently. He closed his eyes and relished the taste of her skin, enjoying how she quivered beneath his expert touch. “Are you always the quiet lover?” he said, brushing his face along her slender throat.
She blushed a little at his question. “Mostly…” She whispered out. “What you’re doing feels so good…” She then added shyly. She drew a knee up, resting her foot on the mattress as her hips lifted from the bed a little, reacting to Robert’s attention to her breast, and the way his breath rolled across her skin.
He sat up to look down upon her form. She was eager… Robert’s lips twitched a bit, before he lowered them to her own. He could feel his penis reach for her depths; seeking the warm, moist embrace only she could provide. He carefully slid his body across hers, letting the woman feel the toned flesh of his masculine form as he settled above her.
His kisses were wondrous, and she always welcomed them. As he settled above her, she parted her legs for him, inviting him to take her. His weight felt comforting and she did indeed give a soft moan into their kiss. Her arms wrapped around him a little tighter, one hand moving from his lower back, up his spine and coming to rest in his silky smooth hair before moving to dance her fingertips gently over the flesh of his shoulder. His muscled frame was heavenly. Strong muscle moving beneath the satin of his skin, despite his scars.
Robert slid his hands along her smooth thighs, coaxing them apart further. He allowed his gaze to settle upon hers as he penetrated the soft juncture; his hardened shaft was hugged ever so tightly. He lowered his lips to her neck, once again, kissing her there as he began to move; slowly, his thrusts gradually picking up strength.
Livia hissed out a little in discomfort as he entered her. He was so well endowed, that sometimes no matter how excited she was for him, there was always a bit of pain to endure. But, oh, was it worth it. Her body gradually got used to his girth, with each of his movements within her. His attention at her neck helped, soothing her as she smoothed her hands over his flesh, feeling his corded muscles moved as he brought her into heights of pleasure. She nibbled at his shoulder a little, kissing and licking the skin there, nipping him gently to leave a slight wound to lap at. Blood and sex were always a good combination for Livia. Her hips began to move in time with Roberts, keeping his pace, grinding herself against him to bring forth more heated movements. She allowed soft noises of pleasure to escape her lips.
He opened his eyes, to narrow his gaze. Robert slowly wrapped his fingers around her throat, holding her there as he bared his fangs against the skin of her neck. He shifted his hips, applying more of his weight to her lower half, to keep her still; at least, for now.
Livia placed her hands on his shoulders, though she didn’t struggle in any way or try to push Robert off. Instead, she hissed out softly. “Oh, yes…bite me…” In a heated tone. Her body writhed against him, despite his body resting on hers. She felt hot and tingled all over, lust causing her to involuntarily breathe hard against him.
Robert lifted his head to look at her. He tightened his hold around her neck and went back to kissing the smooth, pale column; his thrusts becoming harder and deeper, than before. He couldn’t tell if he liked her being so aggressive or if it was just something he had yet to get used to.
She could no longer keep his pace. She lifted her legs and wrapped them around him, clinging to him with both arms and legs. His hand around her neck was both a little frightening, and thrilling. With each of his hard thrusts she let out a little noise that translated into pain, but laced with a bit of pleasure.
He released a soft breath against her ear, voicing the pleasure he was receiving from his wife. The vampire angled his hips to hit that one spot inside of her, which would send the vampiress over the edge.
And over that edge she went. Her entire body tightened around him, inside and out. Then her delicate core began to spasm and pulsate around his thick shaft. Livia arched her back, crying out in pleasure as his continued thrusts prolonged her ecstasy. She bit her own lip, tasting the blood as it covered her tongue, sending more little shockwaves through her small form.
Robert felt her flesh beneath his fingers as he continued to tighten his hold. His own orgasm raced through his body, emptying into his wife as he has done countless times before. It was different this time, however. He slowly loosened his hand from around her throat and trailed kisses along her jawline. “I love you,” he said quietly.
Livia turned her head to the side a little, one hand coming to hold her throat, the other to cover her mouth as she coughed. He’d never done that before. She was sure he was going to bite her, not choke her. Did he realize just how tight his hold had gotten? She knew he didn’t know his own strength sometimes. She wasn’t angry with him, or scared…just a little taken off guard by his actions. When her coughing spell was over, she turned back to look at him, still holding her tender throat. “I love you, too.” She whispered, her voice a little hoarse and raspy.
“… Are you all right, Livia?”
She wrapped her arms back around him and nodded. “I’m fine…” She whispered out to him, adding a smile.
He sat up, allowing her room to move. “Of course, you are,” he said. “Such a thing is hardly dangerous for a vampire, hmm?” Robert offered his own smile.
Livia nodded again in agreement with her husband. “I’m fine, it just took me a little off guard…” She said, moving to sit up and rest against the headboard of the bed.
“Habit…” he murmured, moving to sit next to her. “Cigarette?”
“Yes, please…” She said to the offer of a cigarette. She drew her knees up and rested her arms across them. “You would never kill a human female in such a way, would you? I mean, now that we’re married?” She asked softly. Livia knew what Robert was back before with of them were vampires. He was a murderer and killer. She had to admit that so was she, but she easily covered her crimes up as her patients own doings, or patients killing patients. Not the seemingly emotionless ward nurse she once was.
Robert handed one to his wife before lighting his own between his lips. He frowned around the cigarette. “Why do you ask?”
She took her cigarette and looked down. “I don’t want you having sex with anyone else, even if it was just a plaything or meal.” She said softly.
He raised a brow at the explanation. “Why would I have sex with anyone, other than you, Livia?” Robert, unlike most men, did not have sex on the mind, all the time. He could have felt a little insulted by the woman’s question, but he had an idea of why she asked. “You wish for reassurance? To… rebuild trust?”
She thought about what he said. She gave a small nod. “I guess that’s what I’m looking for…reassurance. There are so many pretty vampiress out there…and humans…far more appealing than me. I…I feel I don’t deserve you at times.” She said softly, smoking her cigarette. She then rested her cheek on her arm and looked at him. “With you, I’ve never felt so complete. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Robert took a long drag from the cigarette. “To answer your question, no… I’m not that kind of person,” he said, tapping the ashes off into the ashtray.
Livia nodded and smoked her own cigarette. “Okay.” She said quietly. “I would never do anything to jeopardize what we have. You’re my husband, my first and only love.” She said, rolling her ash off her cigarette in the ashtray, playing with it some.
“Yes, well… You keep that in mind,” he said, moving to leave the bed. Robert finished off his cigarette and looked to his wife. “Are you hungry?”
Livia looked up to him at his words. She nodded, playing with her cigarette in the ashtray more than smoking it. To his question, she gave a shrug. “I’m hungry a little, but not enough to want to go out and catch someone. I’ll be fine until tomorrow night.” She said, finally snuffing her cigarette out. No, tonight was a night to revel in the man she loved.

Wednesday, July 29, 2015

I have the Ick...


I feel absolutely dreadful.

Now, I’m no wimp or wuss when it comes to getting sick. I mean, I survive having COPD and had a nice two week coma once, and didnt complain at all. >_>

I have one weakness, however.

Stomach aches.

Give me blinding migraines, give me pnuemonia, give me flesh eating bacteria.

But dont give me a stomach ache.

I can not handle.

Around 4am my stomach started feeling a little queazy. I tried to go lay down, I figured I would try to sleep it off.

Body said “NOPE!”

Every slightest move makes me want to hurl. I have taken Pepto. I have been drinking caffiene free (~GASPS~) peppermint tea. I’ve had two slices of toast all day (Its now 8:19pm)

It is abading, it is.

But I was so miserable I didnt want to move. I got very little writing done. But hey! I did manage a little.
Fat Cat has those sympathetic cat senses, and has been following me around the house all day, or sitting here in my 
face. She knows I dont feel well. It could be that I’ve been whining to her. I dont know. I think she feels my pain.

Either that, or she’s waiting patiently for me to die so she can eat my corpse.

Yeah. ~eyes Fat Cat~

Yeah. ~Fat Cat eyes me~

I dont wanna tummy ache. I want my mommy.


Running: A short story (incomplete)

This is an incomplete story. I had started it a while back, in one of my games, but the game itself went under since no one was playing it. So, I never really got the chance to finish the story. This is another one I will probably revisit if I could remember the original theme. Its wasnt quite vampires, it was something out of the ordinary (for me at least), so, hopefully I’ll remember and can get this going as a small little series of sorts.



All I could think about was to keep running, keep hiding, and keep Gennifer safe. Something dreadful had happened, and I’m still trying to put the bits and pieces together, but with all this tiring running, constant hiding, and Gens unstoppable babble is splitting my head in two.
I drop to my knees, pulling Gennifer along with me, pressing my back against the wall taking deep breaths. My lungs feel funny. I feel like I’m just gulping air, and it’s doing nothing.
“He said we wouldn’t have to do that anymore, if we just accepted him. He said he really likes us…I guess on kinda that we’re twinnies. I liked him, I don’t know why you were so mean, why you fought. Gessy, I always say your mean streak gets us nowheres.”
I looked to Gennifer. Sweet Genny. We’re twins. Though something happened in the womb. It would appear I was dominant, taking all the nutrients for development. I was a big, well-formed baby. Poor Genny was so little. And her brain just never developed right. Her body grew up and out though. We are identical. We choose to live the identical lifestyle as well. Most of the time we dress the same, do our hair the same, etc. . . . But still…you can tell who is who. Genny is all soft, like a little lost dove. I have a harder edge to me. My ‘mean streak’ as Genny calls it.
And it appears my mean streak got us in a tussle or something tonight. Bits and pieces are coming back. I looked silently over at my sister, hoping she’ll talk, tell me what my mind is missing in current events.
Genny just crossed her arms and looked away. “I *wanted* to go with the man. He was nice and friendly. The man made you nervous though, and you know what you get like…all mean and grouchy. You hit him, hard.” Genny paused, looking around them at the graffiti walls. “You beat the shit out of him Gessy. It was only after he couldn’t get up that something stopped you. He whispered to you, I dunno what he said. Then the next thing I know is you screamed out and fell down, all this blood gushing from someplace. I got scared, I hid under a table.” Gennifer put her face down, embarrassment shown clear in the crimson stain across her cheeks. “I think I pee’d myself. I got so scared. But then the he came to me, touched my face all nice. He made me feel okay. He whispered things to me, I don’t really understand what…but there is a place we have to go to, to see him again. I wanna go, I know where to go.” Genny quieted once again.
“I feel funny, like I took drugs or something…did they give me drugs Genny?” I asked my little, by 3 minutes, sister.
Gennifer shook her head to her twin. “No, no drugs. And after you beat the man up, he just got back up again. I told you that. I was scared Gessy…I was hiding…but when he was gone, I came back out for you. You were all covered in blood and your neck was all gross and hanging open. I cried and cried. I lay down beside you because I didn’t know what to do…who would take care of me?” Genny was getting teary on me…when she got teary, she got whiney.
I moved and put my arm around her. “There, there. I’m here. But how am I here?” Gessica looked down at her clothing. Sure enough, they were covered in dried blood.
“You started moving, like, in your sleep. Your throat and neck just got better, even though there was blood everywhere. And you just opened your eyes, grabbed me, and we started running. I wanna go back to find that man Gessy. He’s a magical being or something. I can feel it deep inside me…you know my ‘feelin’s are usually spot on. I got a feelin’ bout this man. Maybe he can help us and we could have a for real home!” Genny spouted.
I put my hand on her thigh. “Settle down, Gen. You said this man did something to me and when you looked, my throat was all cut open? So not sure I want to find someone like that again.”
Gennifer suddenly stood up, her blue crystalline eyes shimmering. “That’s just it Gessica! We HAVE to go to him…he did something to you, and you need him now, and what he did, I want it too! YOU started this Gessica, you hafta make it right!”
Whoa…referring to me as ‘Gessica’. She only does that when she’s in an eerie state of clarity and feeling mature. And angry. I get up, brushing my behind off.
I put my hands up, stepping closer to my sister gently. “Okay Gennifer…okay. We’ll do what you want. And…Maybe this guy will find us sooner. Something is happening to me Genny…I smell things different. Hear and see things different.”
My sister just looked at me with her big beautiful eyes, waiting for me to go on.
“I can hear…smell…almost taste…the blood coursing through you…”

Tuesday, July 28, 2015

Riverbank: A short story


She was carried along by the river. He never wanted to see her this way. He never wished for her to die. Things just happened and things just became unstoppable.
She loved this place though. This river. They had come here often, laying in the tall lush grasses of the riverbank, a blanket spread out beneath them. She always packed baskets of food and drink, whether it was afternoon or evening.
In the humid night air of summer, they watched the fireflies dance. The sound of the rippling waters lulling them into peacefulness.
All things change however.
Eventually, the river was a place they stopped visiting. Their relationship had become too complicated. Things were not so laid back and easy anymore.
Now, however, he could bring her there to the river they once loved together. She could be at peace here. And he would visit often to remember what once was.
With a sigh, he said a few words, of how he loved her, of how he mourned her, and how he would miss her. He was emotional. He was hurting. He was angry.
He found their favorite spot and strolled out to the river, going in knee deep with his beloved in his arms.
He opened the urn and lifted it, letting the contents spill out into the winds and down onto the currents of the waters rambling downstream. As the ashes caught up in the slight breeze, he silently raged at god for taking her away from him. How many more would have to die from cancer? Wither and waste away.
His love didn’t deserve this. She was a good woman.
Now all that was left was the river and memories.

In the know... an update


Hello my darlings!
Only one short story tonight.

I’ve been taking care of my friend as I mentioned last week. They still arent back to work yet, and I STILL havent gotten things totally settled with my insurance since the truck got wrecked. So, I have been a little busy.

Today was the first day, however, that I havent been able to sit down and write at length. I managed one story.
But hey, at least it was something. My goal for this month was to write something every day based on prompts. I think I’ve managed pretty good. I want to make it a routine that lasts.

I know not all of my short stories are great, but like I said, it keeps me writing, even if I fall flat here and there. I think tonights short story will be like well enough.

I have been thinking of posting up more of my Role Play writing. Some of the characters mine deals with, and their situations, can be downright entertaining and hilarious. Not all this vampire stuff is serious. I like my roleplays to carry some humor too, and my characters are far from perfect creatures.

Fat Cat is having a hard time struggling with this heat this year. She is harking up hairballs every day. I totally need to get her in to be shaved down. Its also time for a medical checkup. She’ll be so pleased. >_>

I’ve also been rearranging my office… again… I swapped my newer laptop desk for the old one I bought years ago. It is much bigger and matches my main desk a lot better. That meant digging in the storage room to unearth the old desk and get them swapped without breaking my neck.

I really should clean out that storage room…but…uumm…nu.

Well my lovelies, enjoy tonights story to be posted next.

~hugs you all~

Sunday, July 26, 2015

Scents: A short story

She sat peacefully on the park bench, happily minding her own business as she simply observed the goings on. This particular park was one of the largest in the city. Mothers and fathers however, were keeping their children close, not allowing the youngsters to enjoy the parks activities. They held their children’s hands and some held their children fully, despite the little ones squirming and wiggling for freedom.
The police had cordoned off a section of the park, their bright yellow ‘crime scene’ tape alerting the general populace to the grim discoveries of a mutilated couple. And despite the gruesomeness of it all, mothers, fathers, nannies and babysitters just had to see what all the commotion was about. Everybody loved a bloodbath.
Genesis absently brushed away a stray strand of dark hair from her face, her cheeks a rosy red from the heat and humidity in the air. She smiled and looked over toward where the police, detectives and coroners were earning their incomes. She already knew what the crime scene looked like…the way the massive amounts of vermillion blood stained the green grasses. The way the bodies were torn asunder, some pieces held together by the faintest of shreds of muscle or flesh. There were chunks of muscle meat missing, baffling the authorities.
She really couldn’t help herself. She had been so hungry. The wolf demanded feeding. Genesis usually tried to suppress it. She hated the wolf within. She very rarely shifted, except for the one time of the month, the full moon, that she had no choice in the matter. But last night something was different, something was off.
She was halted in her thoughts momentarily as a couple of police officers walked by, making their way to a little push cart offering hot coffee and cold lemonades. The gentlemen were pale, visibly shaken by what they had seen. “I tellya Stan, I never seen anything like that…I mean…the coroner said they was eaten on…meat and organs were missing…their livers…what the fuck kind of animal does that?” One officer asked of the other. His partner grimly shook his head. “I dunno Eddie. You know we’ve had problems with big wolves and bears attacking before…” He offered up. Eddie clicked his tongue. “This was a little too close…nothing has ever happened in a populated area before. This sort of shit happens in the woods. Animals don’t come this close to human places…” “There’s a first time for everything…” The conversation went on, but Genesis stopped paying attention.
Her thoughts meandered back to the early morning hours, when the hunger took hold so strongly, she shifted, hunted and sated the wolfs bloody hunger. She tried to think of what triggered it. All she could remember was a scent. A male scent. It had sent her own senses into a frenzy. Like a bitch in heat, she craved this male, let his scent drive her crazy with desire and hunger. And since she couldn’t seem to find him, she did the only thing she could think of to relieve her hunger. She hunted to feed.
She found the couple jogging together in the pre-dawn hour. They must have presumed there was safety in numbers. Genesis, in her partially transitioned form, saw them as nothing more than happy meals on legs. Both the male and female were excreting pheromones. They must have been lovers, or would be lovers. That made things extra tantalizing. Genesis had salivated, stalking them in her werewolf form. She sprang on them out of the brush, the female setting off with a shriek before a clawed hand to the throat silenced her. Her male companion tried to fight. Genesis, in her werewolf form, wasn’t too much bigger than her human form. She wasn’t particularly imposing. But her strength, speed and ferocity were inhuman. Superhuman. Supernatural. The human male didn’t have a chance. Genesis buried her maw in his shoulder, her clawed hands gripping both arms and she pulled in all directions at once. Sweet crimson blood filled her mouth, coating her fur. As she continued to pull pieces of the male off, eating the best of the muscle, then digging into his abdominal cavity for his liver, the female at his side watched in horror, unable to scream, too in shock to move quick enough to get away. She was losing blood quickly. Steam rose up in the slight chill of the night air. Genesis growled to the female before moving to her, tearing the woman apart and making a delicacy of her as well.
But while the wolfs belly was full, the hunger for the male she had scented out earlier was still there. Who was he? Where was he?
Genesis let her eyes roam over the park and its inhabitants before standing, the gravel of the path crunching lightly under her booted feet. She made her way over to the beverage vendor and ordered herself a refreshing lemonade before setting off down the sidewalk. She was sure this male would reveal himself in time. She didn’t know why he felt like toying with her though.

Bound to Her: A short story (RP Based)

So this is an RP story I wrote awhile back, I think around Christmas time last year. I dont think I ever posted it to the RP forum, but digging through my stuff today I found it and dusted it off. Its another look at the relationship between my character Nemesis and her faithful butler Creedy. It also alludes to how human Nemesis is, for being a vampire. She makes mistakes, she is flawed and she is socially awkward.
So, enjoy getting to know this character!


Creedy looked at his employer with pity, heaving a heavy sigh for her.
“Pathetic.” He said out loud, dropping a dagger close to Nemesis’ head as she lay in the middle of the banquet halls long dining table.
“Oh, an inch more and that would have taken my ear off, Creedy. Go. Away.” She said, not even mustering enough emotion in her voice to seem threatening. She reached up and plucked the dagger out of the fine finishing of the table and simply tossed it to the floor. “You’re ruining my furniture, stop it, or I’ll dock your pay.” She then rumbled to him.
“Tsk…Nemesis, how long has it been since you’ve been out? Halloween? You need to get out…things can’t be that bad, can they?” The dedicated butler asked of his mistress.
Nemesis simply let out a sigh. “Gee, I dunno Conrad…I turned away from everyone in the city, destroyed friendships, broke ties, left total communities and had a one night stand that left a nice gouge mark in me that makes me want to claw my own eyes out. Don’t you kinda think I’ve done enough damage?” She asked her man servant.
“Caroline…” Creedy breathed out, since she seemed to want to take it to the first and real name basis “…nothing is irreparable. Perhaps a conversation with oph…”
“DONT…do not even go there. If that name is spoken in this house again someone loses a tongue.” Nemesis said plainly. The irritability did have her moving to sit up however, which Creedy found to be a good thing…maybe. He watched as she moved to dangle her legs off the side of the table, swaying her small feet back and forth.
“I was going to prepare the manor for Christmas…would you like to help? I know you enjoy the holiday…” Creedy then offered tenderly, as if a father speaking to his daughter.
But Nemesis was having none of it. “Don’t bother yourself…what’s the point Conrad? It’s just you and me. We don’t need to drag out all this stupid holiday cheer crap just for the two of us. Why don’t you just go away for the holiday…take however much money you need and go on a vacation. That will be my gift to you…a vacation…” She said softly, toying with a strand of her long hair.
The man looked at her and shook his head slowly, his features turning to anger. He reached down to where she had dropped the dagger, retrieving it, only to sink it deep into her flesh in the junction between her neck and shoulder.
Nemesis raised her head, blinking as she turned her sight to Creedy and left out a string of very un-lady-like curses.
“Language like that is so uncouth madam.” Creedy said, watching her pull the blade from her neck.
“Fuck you.” She retaliated. “Why would you do that…want me to return the gesture? Are you feeling suicidal today? You know, I’ve kept you alive and by my side as my butler for how long now? Do not think that you are irreplaceable.” She scowled.
“Tell me about the one night stand. This is the first I’ve heard you mention of it…” Creedy said, looking very pointedly at her. He inwardly sighed at the amount of blood he would have to clean up once Nemesis healed, but drastic times called for drastic measures and all.
Nemesis looked to him rather blandly. “Not much to tell…you know…meet guy, cozy up, make with the sexiness, then sneak away while he sleeps…yeah…not too much more than that.” She said, hopping down from the table.
“You’re definitely not yourself ma’am. I want to help you.” Creedy said, letting his voice and manner carry the sincerity.
But Nemesis shook it off. “I’m fine. Don’t need anything or anyone past these walls.”
“That’s not true and you know it. You’re wallowing.”
“I am not wallowing.”
“You are. Why don’t you go out and kick a puppy…that always makes you smile…go eat a little goth child, that makes you happy…”
“Creedy…clean up this mess. I’m going to my room.”
Nemesis began walking off, but on the subject of her room, Creedy spoke up once again. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten what you’ve done in there…I’ve hired a contractor that will be here tomorrow to sort out that mess…you’ll have to sleep in one of the other rooms.”
Nemesis turned. “Yes, yes, fine…I’ll be in my attic, I suppose.” She said in a deflated tone. Yes, she had destroyed her room in a fit of rage one evening, wanting to strip away all there was of the past. She tore furnishings apart, punched holes in walls, destroyed the little ‘hidden room’ in the paneling. Then she started dragging her meals up there…killing them violently and staining the room in blood. Even Nemesis would admit there was a bit of a foul smell emanating from the room now.
As she reached the door to the banquet room, she turned to look at Creedy somewhat timidly. “Is the library put back in order?” She asked rather meekly for a vampiress of her power. Creedy looked at the amount of blood pooled from stabbing her then slowly looked to his mistress. “Yes, Nemesis. The room is back in order, minus the pictures. I figured I would replace those you tore down with some of your old portraits that have been in storage.”
Nemesis gave a nod. “Yes, that will do.” She said softly.
Creedy sighed and began toiling away, cleaning up yet another of Nemesis’ messes. This business of her having a ‘one night stand’ bothered him greatly. But she was her own woman, and he wasn’t her father.
Nemesis trekked to the safety of her attic, curling a lip in disgust at the feel of the dried blood on her neck and in her hair from Creedy’s little dagger hit. Like her faithful butler, her thoughts turned to her actions of weeks ago. She was beginning to feel foolish. It was almost Christmas and she hadn’t said a word to him. She felt like a whore, though she was far from it. There were some in this forsaken city so much worse than herself. Both female and male. Some didn’t know their head from a hole in the ground.
She stripped down and climbed into the shower in her attic room, cleansing herself thoroughly before stepping out to dry and put on fresh clothing. With nothing more to do, and restraining from destroying any more of her own property, she sat down on the cot set up in the corner of the room. Her attic was filled with a variety of herbs, flowers, bones and skins. Voodoo dolls and charms hung everywhere with no rhyme or reason.
She could try to capture a small bit of peace here, among her collection of oddities, both found and created.
With a sign, she picked up a small skull. It was a chipmunk or squirrel or something. It was cute.
She lay down on the cot with the critter skull and allowed her fingertips to smooth over the bone. It was soothing and lulling. Her eyes drifted shut, but she did not sleep.
She wallowed.

Saturday, July 25, 2015

After Time: A short story

Hello my darlings! Tonight we will have only one story. It was based on a 3 word prompt, and it sort of took on a life of its own. I am seriously considering continuing on with it. For now, I will share what I’ve written thus far. Enjoy!
The 3 words given to work into the story:
1. hospital
2. death
3. Mice
They had made it to the hospital just in time. The sun was just dipping down beneath the horizon.
This was the third hospital, and hopefully this one wasn’t another bust. They prayed. They needed medical supplies, food, and water…anything that could be scavenged. They had to do it quietly, however.
You could only be outside during the daylight hours, so those precious hours were spent traveling from place to place, scavenging, looking for survivors, or running from the more malicious survivors who’d kill you for what you had.
The world had gone to hell.
Oh, no. No nuclear holocaust. No great war. Hell, it wasn’t even zombies or vampires.
No one quite knew what this was.
This…epidemic…when it started…seemed to affect only certain people. Something in their genetic make-up, or blood. Or maybe the chemical balance in their brains. No one was ever able to figure it out. What was known, was that it was an epidemic that was created. For what purpose was a mystery. Whoever created it in their little petri dish died long ago, probably patient one.
Now the afflicted roamed the night. They brought death and despair. And as said, they were not zombie or vampires. Perhaps an odd mix of both. Yes, they would bite you. Eat you. Devour you. But they were not dead. They were alive. It’s just like a switch got turned off in their brains and they became…inhuman.
And this affliction was transmittable. Only through saliva though, not scratches.
Oh, at first it wasn’t, and they thought they could beat this thing and regain control of the world.
It mutated. Somewhere in its travels over the oceans and back it mutated.
Animals were not affected by this…thing. Well, except birds. And that seemed to bring on a devastating loss all on its own. Everywhere the damned birds shit, things died. The vegetation was dying. No vegetation meant no bigger herbivores to hunt and sustain human life.
The dead or dying wasn’t touched by anything either. Worms and flies. Rats and mice. Their little noses told them ‘no, you don’t want to eat this’.
Rumors circulated around that people were starting to cannibalize other people up in the northern country. These…things…didn’t seem to like the cold much, so a lot of people moved north. The cold weather may have protected them from these things, but not from their fellow man and starvation.
Medical supplies were the currency of the realm. If you could get enough good stuff, you could bargain your way into a small group. It was always best to be in a group.
It may sound cruel, but it was always safest to get into a group with older people and young children. Those whose bodies had been weakened from malnutrition and the harshness of the times.
The strong prey on the weak. These…things…didn’t like to have to work overly hard for their meal.
The world was really cruel now. The weak were sacrificed.
Some people tried to get into the CDC’s and whatnot. It was heard that some had actually made it. That was in the beginning though.
They didn’t know if anyone was still working on figuring things out in the CDC’s and World Health Organizations. They didn’t know if any of them were still alive.
The power grids were out pretty much everywhere. No phones, no cellphones, no TV. Some people did have CB radios and walkie talkies, but they were good for any distance.
They didn’t have either. They were a small group. It was just the five of them. They were going from hospital to hospital, clinic to clinic, searching for anything they could get. They did have motorcycles, one of them having a small box like trailer to it to carry things. They were hoping to find a small community with fences or some sort of alarm and warning system.
They’d been in a group before. They had been attacked. After that, they found another group to live with, but that group didn’t have good judgement. Others came, joined, and turned on them. Stealing all the food and supplies, doing horrible things to their fellow survivors.
They thought if after this supply run, maybe they could find their own place, just the five of them. It was risking, being such a small group, but it had its advantages, too.
With some luck, they found plenty in this particular hospital. Apparently no one else had raided it because it was burned out on one side. People probably thought there was nothing salvageable.
But they were in luck. In the cafeteria there were loads of canned goods and dried pastas. In the medical wards there were all the supplies one could hope for. Medications, pain killers, bandages…just…everything.
They whispered together about maybe trying to fortify this place. Not leave. Make it a home for the five of them. They knew one another well. They trusted one another. It could work.
They went back to the cafeteria and fortified it. They’d spend a few days here. Talk things over, come to a decision.
They couldn’t hear the moans and scuffling of feet in the parking garage. And none thought to look there.

Friday, July 24, 2015

Cherished: A short story

Sorry my lovelies, only one story tonight. Its a happy-ish one though! I get points for that?
Bacon always reminded her of breakfast at her grandmothers. She spent a lot of time with the woman.
Her parents were quite well off, they excelled in investing their money wisely, and often took trips. They never took Marie with them. She was an only child, and she felt, due to the fact that they always left her behind, that she was more of a hindrance to them.
She loved all the time she spent with her grandmother though. The elderly woman taught her so many things. Cooking, sewing, painting little ceramic figurines. They had a lot of fun together.
Marie’s grandmother told her stories of the ‘olden days’. Stories of her grandfather, and the loved they shared. The man had died before Marie could know him. She was just an infant when a car accident took his life. But her grandmother and he obviously shared a loving relationship. Her grandmother never pursued another relationship with anyone after his passing.
Grandmother had tried her best to instill good values into Marie, taking up where her seemingly neglectful parents had left off. Marie’s grandmother was her mother’s mother. Sometimes, Marie would hear her grandmother scolding her mother on the phone for the way they seemed to…not mistreat…but neglect Marie. They were not openly affectionate with the girl. Marie still loved them, however. And they did always bring her presents after each vacation they took without her. At least they thought of her a little.
When Marie was seventeen, her grandmother passed away. It shattered Marie’s world. Everything the woman had owned was left to Marie, the sole beneficiary of all her worldly possessions. Marie treasured each and every single thing, like she had treasured the woman herself.
A year later, on another of her parent’s vacations, their plane went down. No survivors.
Maries felt horrible. Not horrible in the fact that her parents where dead, but in the fact that she didn’t feel horrible that they were dead. The loss of her grandmother affected her so deeply, yet the death of her own parents left little feeling inside her.
Of course, she inherited a great deal of money. She paid her college tuition straight out.
When her schooling was done, her degree in hand, she obtained a job at a museum. She loved her life. She loved her job. She was a very happy young woman. An even in this times bad economic conditions, she had plenty of money stashed away from her inheritances.
Every Sunday morning, Marie celebrated life. Not by means of church, as she did not believe in a god, but celebrating the life that was given to her. It was hurtful at times, but it was happy, too. Her grandmother had accomplished what her parents should have done.
This Sunday, as every Sunday, Marie sat down at the little table in her quaint little apartment, a large plate of eggs, toast, grits…and a lot of bacon…sitting before her with her coffee.
She talked to her grandmother as she ate her bacon, letting the memories of her youth surround her like a fog, and in that time, she could feel her grandmother’s arms around her.

Wednesday, July 22, 2015

Hello lovelies!!

Hello my darlings!
I’m sorry to report that I have no short stories to share tonight. Someone dear to me had to go to the emergency room today and needs emergency surgery first thing in the morning, and I will be there.
Hopefully I’ll be able to jot some things down, maybe even produce a short story or two for tomorrow night.
Many thanks to all of you who have been reading my little stories, liking and sharing them. More to come, I promise!
Goodnight my lovelies!

Floating Part II: (RP Based)


Part II

Upon stepping out into the night air, Nemesis slid on her hoodie and took a deep, unneeded, breath. Its only value was to scent out the most blood in the local vicinity could be found.
The fresh warm blood of possible meals were gathered to the north and west. She smiled, and with a little bounce in her step, steered herself toward the humans. She passed the fountain in the center of the walkway to the front gates, stopping a moment to check on her Koi fish. The lighting made them shimmer in the evening. She waved her hand through the water before continuing down the path that led to the sidewalk and the city beyond.
The first meal of the night came from a smartly dressed young man fumbling around near an Omni Bank ATM machine. She took him down from behind quickly. It felt so good to sink her teeth into the taunt flesh of his neck, she nearly shook him like a wolf with bone. She took deep, smooth drinks of his blood as it rushed to meet her ruby lips. But it all came to an end all too soon. The gentleman had given up all the blood he could offer. Nemesis dropped him where he was, then leaned over his corpse. She didn’t mind acting like a scavenger, picking him clean of coin and money. What need did he have for it now?
With a fresh kill and hot blood rolling through her, Nemesis felt much better. She ventured off, pulling her hood over her head as a light mist of rain had begun to fall. The streets passed Zinc seemed to be filled with activity. A lot of nightwalkers. She didn’t want the tainted taste of a fellow vampire on her tongue this night, however. She wanted human blood, but there wasn’t a tavern near, so she would have to hunt for what she desired. A park would have to suffice.
People still frequented the beautiful old parks in Ravenblack. Lovers strolled their paths, outdoor types still sometimes camped overnight. They knew the risks.
And then there were the hunters. Organized ‘freedom fighters’ here to kill off the demon hoards, as they liked to say it. They could be lethal when fresh for a fight, with their crossbows. The tips were blessed. They caused a vampire a significant amount of damage. Nemesis never gave chase to them. She found no fun in it. Her beloved enjoyed the sport of hunting the hunters.
Nemesis heard voices coming from a path. With stealth and quickness she climbed a tree overlooking the path. She smiled a wide gleaming grin. A couple. Just what she needed to fill herself for the evening. As they came into view, Nemesis’ stomach gave a flutter and she gnashed her teeth. They came closer and closer still, holding hands and chatting. And once they were within her reach, she lay on the branch she had been sitting, picking the lovers up by their heads. She paid no mind to their struggles. It meant nothing to her superior strength.
She made them look toward each other, as they both scratched and groped at her hands on their heads. It made her giggle.
“Time to kiss-kiss!” She said to them in a plain, clear voice before smashing their faces together. Their faces were bashed in beyond recognition, but their bodies still lived.
She drug each of them into the tree with her and fed at her leisure. It was perfection, and she now felt playful.
She tied each of them to the branch by their belts, using tatters of their clothing to make them seem as grotesque marionettes’. She ripped and slashed at their bodies, so that when she pushed them from the tree, entrails and meat would splatter the path below. It made a wonderful ‘sploshing’ noise. She studied her dolls, impressed with her handiwork. She hadn’t lost her touch.
She felt eye on her, causing her to turn slowly. A low growl rang out through the park before two golden eyes pushed their way from the brush. A wolf. A very large wolf. And it wasn’t one of hers. It was a feral, wild wolf. She turned her body boldly and offered a little bow to him. He wouldn’t be able to reach her dolls, be he’d come for what was spilling out of them and what littered the path. Nemesis couldn’t speak to animals like her husband could. So instead, she offered up a silly salute and turned, not showing any fear, and began to stroll away. The wolf was happy enough, and when she had gotten a good distance away, he moved toward the steaming pile of meat, flesh and entrails, enjoying a free meal.
Nemesis went about in the night, looking into shops and whatnot. She saw a good many vampires she knew of, but didn’t personally know, and a bunch of vampires she never seen before. But that’s what happens when you take extended amounts of sleep.
She continued on with her window shopping, making note to come back at a later time to restock and just have the fun of spending her money.
It was time to go home, her hunger sated. Both of them. Both the emptiness of her stomach and veins, and that ever heavy need for violence. She would go home, read a book, drink some wine, and hope her husband crawled his way out of that floating place soon.

Hunger: A short story

This was a first sentence starter. I’m not too thrilled with it. It seems to meander and go no where, and lacks any real imagination in my opinion. Perhaps someday I will revisit it and give it a revision, or total re-write.
He knew he was in trouble the moment he walked in the door. His wife stood there, arms crossed. She wanted to know where he had been. He wouldn’t lie to her. She would know. She knew him all too well.
He opened mouth to speak. She immediately stepped forward, slapping him hard across the face before he could even get any words out.
That was her mistake. She should have just went with the flow. He’d never harmed her. Even when she found out his secret, he’d never harmed her, always keeping her away from it. Yes, they moved around a lot, and she hated it, but he kept her hands cleaned.
Things escalated quickly. She should have just let well enough alone. Why couldn’t she just do that? She had indulged him in his activities for so long now. Yes, they angered her, but she left him to it. She should have just kept silent, kept her hands to herself, and let it go, cooling down for a few days. Erupting like that after the night he’d had was a monumental mistake.
After she had struck him, he stopped being himself. He let the ‘other’ surface.
When he came to from his blackout again, there he was, disposing of another body. At first he hadn’t realized it was his own wife, but her wedding band had fallen off. He wanted to cry for her. He couldn’t. She had brought this on herself. She knew he held a monster inside that woke from time to time, and it had a need. He had fed that need. And now, so had she.

Tuesday, July 21, 2015

Floating Part I (RP story based)


This story takes place after one of my breaks from a particular game. Its my character, Nemesis, going through the motions of waking and reaclimating herself to the waking world, covering her needs. Tonight I present Part I, tomorrow I will post Part II.

Floating. Floating, floating, floating. That’s how it felt. She was aware, and yet she had no sense of time or place. So she floated.
Aware. Floating still, but more aware. Her body pressed against another, flesh to flesh. Silk cocooning them.
Aware. Nemesis made one small movement. A simple wiggle of her fingertips. She took a deep breath to scent the air. Her husband’s scent surrounded her.
She wiggled the fingers of both hands before moving her body ever so slightly. That slight movement told her enough.
Her face was buried against his stomach. It must have been awhile since either moved, because Nemesis cracked a small grin when she realized that the skin of her pale cheek was stuck to her partner bounds flesh by way of her own drool. It was comical to her.
She allowed herself a little time to fully become grounded from that floating place before moving again. Slowly and hesitantly she pushed herself from her lover and off the bed, finding herself sitting on the floor. Keen eyes took in the room. There was not a speck of dust, not a thing out of place, everything picture perfect. That could only mean that her faithful butler Creedy had been in every day checking on him.
Nemesis shifted a bit, testing out the strength in her body. She felt weak and her teeth hurt. And there were hardly words to describe the white hot burning hunger in her stomach and veins. With a slender arm she reached to the nightstand she was partially leaning against and picked up the phone, drawing it down to her parched lips. She pressed a single button on the phone. “Creedy…I need your assistance…” she managed to rasp out from a throat that felt of sandpaper.
Not five minutes passed before a tall, well built, but older man entered through the door, a pitcher of thick red fluid in hand. Conrad Creedy had been Nemesis’ human servant for decades. He tended all her affairs and business dealings. And for his servitude, Nemesis kept him from the ravages of time, though she didn’t make him a vampire, as that was his wish.
Creedy moved to Nemesis’ side and held the pitcher to her lips. She greedily gulped at the ever so sweet taste of fresh, hot blood. Creedy’s hand stroked her hair as he whispered to her “slowly, mistress, slowly…” but she paid him no mind and finished of the pitcher, licking what had spilled over her lips and fingers. “Shall I wake the master?” Creedy asked softly. With a shake of her head, she looked to the bed. “Let him sleep until he’s ready…” Creedy gave her a nod and picked her small, naked form up off the floor, carrying her to the washroom. He ran her a bath and set her down within the hot waters before leaving to fetch her some clothing.
Nemesis inhaled the flesh, clean scent of the bath she soaked in. She gathered her favorite body soaps and shampoo and went to work on cleaning herself up. The hot water soothed aching muscles and joints, and the precious blood Creedy had provided held her hunger at bay, for now.
When ready, Nemesis stood from the bath and allowed Creedy to wrap her in a towel and help her stand on her own two legs. He helped dry her off, and brushed her long red hair free from any tangles. “Thank you, Creedy, that will be all for now. I’ll be down stairs in a few.” The elder looking gentleman gave a nod and left the master suite of the Asyl.
Nemesis picked up the clothing that was chosen for her. She offered up a smile. Creedy was worth his weight in gold. He always knew what was needed for her at any given time. Tonight he had chosen a ‘hunting’ ensemble. Black pants and one of her husband’s loose fitting black shirts. Also resting on the counter was her favorite pair of tennis shoes.
She slipped her clothing on and stepped once more into the bedroom, looking to her love. He was still in that floating place. He’d wake sooner or later. That special bond between them would stir at him like a fine web between them being jostled by a tiny fly.
Nemesis blew a kiss to her man’s sleeping form before exiting the room. She walked through the big manor slowly, getting a renewed feel of things. When she descended the staircase, she went to a room on the left of the case, opening the door and stepping in. “BEBEEES!” She squealed as a choir of ‘mews’ and ‘meows’ flooded her ears. The vampiress dropped to her knees and was lovingly assaulted by her array of cats and kittens. And she gave each and every one of them their own special moment of attention. Nemesis adored felines. If she could rescue every stray in the world, she would. She allowed strays from the city streets to follow her home, letting them take up residence in the big barn. They weren’t ‘people’ friendly, having lived on the streets, but they were thankful for the warm hay and free food offered to them. And the stables stayed rodent free.
Out of nowhere that stabbing hot pain was in her belly again. “Okay, my lovelies, momma can’t stay here all night. We’ll play later.” She said to the flock of felines.
Nemesis got up and left the room, heading toward the front door. Creedy was standing there, two jackets for her to choose from. A trench, or a hoodie. She smiled to her servant and chose the hoodie.
“All the best on your nights hunt mistress, it’s good to see you awake.” Creedy said. Nemesis had no words, she simple winked at him and took her leaving of her sanctuary while the night was still young, off to fill her hunger.

Demons Delight: A short story

This is from a 3 word prompt. The 3 words being:
1. zephyr
2. touch
3. Face

The zephyr of warm air washed over his face, giving him pause to smile. It felt wonderful. Life was good. It could only get better from here.
That is, if his flock never discovered his secret. Such a primal beast he was. A devil, a demon, from what books would describe.
He had learned to blend in. Look and act human. His base instincts were still there, but he taught himself control.
There, in the labyrinth of tunnels in the city, the homeless, runaways, the discarded humans seemed to accept him as one of their own.
He started providing for them. They needed food and water. He provided those things.
Of course, you couldn’t make an omelet without breaking a few eggs. He used this new community he had integrated himself into. He stole from those he killed. In turn, he pawned the items for money. He needed to be able to blend in with the world above, as well as below. He had to look respectable by society’s standards.
He tried not to harm those under his care. He hunted those above ground instead. The wealthy. He did so in a way that the police would not give much thought to.
As he sat around the fire one night, a small human child came to him, sitting on his lap. She placed her hand on his face. A soft touch. The gentle touch of a defenseless child.
He smiled to her, pulling a piece of meat from the makeshift spit, blowing on it lightly to cool it before handing it to the little one.
He was making a race of cannibals. They didn’t need to know that.
They just needed to look into his face and see their god.

Sunday, July 19, 2015

The Price: A short story

This is from a 3 word prompt. Yes, it may seem familiar. It is based on a scene from the movie ‘Practical Magic’, however, it is very different, and goes quite a bit more into depth on things.

So, the 3 words are:

1. start
2. trick
3. Jump

She looked at the time, and then her eyes moved over to the woman sitting across from her. “The sun is just below the horizon, the moon is ascending. It’s a good time to get to start, if you’re ready…” She said to the elder woman. She wasn’t much older than herself, maybe 10 years at most. She supposed maybe that was a decent age difference. Did the woman feel comfortable coming to someone younger than herself? Wow…that was kind of stupid. This woman probably wasn’t comfortable coming to her at all.
Circumstance brought her here however. A pain. An ache.
She stood, looking to the woman who had set her tea cup down on the coffee table. “Come with me ma’am.” She said softly. The woman stood and followed, out into the greenhouse.
She went to gather materials. The elder woman looked around in wonder. There were several songbirds hanging from dainty little cages and various glass aquariums containing fish, snake, frogs and reptiles.
And the plants! So many varieties. All in good health, and the blooming blossoms so fragrant in the air.
“Ma’am, if you would?” She said softly. In one hand she held a bowl of blossoms, leaves and soil. In the other, one of the bird cages containing a dove.
The trick of this all was to use everything fresh. Dried ingredients just were not as potent. Too many made that mistake.
The woman was sitting on a wicker loveseat, part of a patio set. Before her was a coffee table that had a sheet laid over it. A steaming tea pot and a cup also sat there.
She brought everything to the woman, placing the birdcage down and grabbing hold of the teapot. She placing in the blossoms, dirt and other various items, rubbing them through her hands as she placed them in the boiling water.
The woman watched intently. She didn’t hide her dislike of the younger woman, but the need for her services outweighed everything at the moment.
She couldn’t help but notice this. She could feel it. She gave an internal shrug. The woman was paying her, and paying her good. They all did.
“I need for you to drink this, please. The full cup.” She said to the woman, pouring her the content of the steeping teapot. The woman gave a disgusted looked. That wasn’t ‘tea’. It had dirt in it. And who knows what else.
She needed this though. She did as told, chugging the hot liquid back. As she did this, the younger woman reached into the birdcage and took hold of the dove.
“Now, say out loud what you wish for and then plunge this needle into the dove’s heart.”
The elder woman’s hands were shaking. She took the needle and nodded.
“I don’t want to love him anymore. I don’t want him to love me. I don’t want anyone to ever love him again.”
She forced the needle into the breast of the dove, piercing its heart. Its feathers flapped and it made a bit of noise, giving the woman pause to jump back in her seat. Then the bird seemed to drift off and die.
The woman looked to her questioningly.
“It’s done. Now, take this bird home and bury it in the Southeast corner of your garden.” She instructed.
Near the brink of tears, the woman nodded, wrapping the bird up in a cloth provided as she slipped a wad of money out, tossing it onto the table. She said nothing more. No thanks. No show of gratitude.
What the elder woman didn’t know, or didn’t understand, was that there was a price to be paid that went far beyond mortal currency. She would get what she asked for, however, this man would live a full happy life in his solitude. He would enjoy it, rejoice in it. The woman however, would find no other love at all in her life. She would compare all other men to him, though she would not feel love for him. Or anyone, ever again. She would die alone and miserable and a far younger age had she not brought this upon herself.
She showed the elder woman out, returning to her greenhouse to clean up. She placed the wad of money in her pocket.
Tomorrow night would bring someone else to her door for a spell, hex or curse.

Baby Talk: A short story

A first sentence starter. Its a little morbid. It didnt come out as I had planned, however. This one, in time, may need for a rewrite for me to be completely happy with it.

Who would have poisoned all these innocent children?
That was the big question on her mind. She looked over the decayed remains of 21 children, ranging from age 5 to 10. Some were more decomposed than others, but they seemed to have died in groups. Killed, poisoned, and then placed into a mass grave.
A dog had found the grave in the forest. He’d gotten away from his own on one of the walking trails and started digging and barking in the small clearing. Once a little hand was dislodged from the earth, the panicked owner called 911.
21 little children. She identified the poison in the bodies, their last meals and all relevant findings.
That couldn’t reveal the killer or the reason, however.
This had been happening over the course of years. No suspects, no ‘persons of interest’. It was frustrating. And if it was frustrating for her, she could only imagine what the detectives and officers handling the case felt.
She had not yet started identifying the bodies. The detectives and officers were compiling missing children lists, pictures and dental records.
Who would do such a thing to innocent little children? Did they have such confidence that the bodies would never be found, or linked back?
She took a breath, sighing out. Back to work. The dead had to reveal their secrets to her.

Grit: A short story

Another three word prompt, the three words being:
1. throat
2. road
3. Attack
**As a side note, I’ve completed my word count goal on Camp NaNoWriMo! YAYS! However, I will continue to write daily and post at least two short stories a night. I also have dug through some of my old Role Play and will post some of them up for you all in story format. Coolness?
On with the story…

Sand. Sand everywhere. It was up his nose, in his throat, scratching at his eyes. He looked out at the road before him. Such a desolate wasteland, or so it would seem. He had to be sure there were no prying eyes and no possible way these bodies would be found, even if on accident.
The desert seemed the perfect place.
It’s not like he ever intended this to happen. It wasn’t his fault in the least. He was the victim here. The attack against him left him with no choice but to defend himself and what was rightfully his.
However, the attack, and the timing of it, sent him into a blind rage. He really had no intent of killing the three men. He only wanted to send them back to their boss with a clear understanding that such annoyances wouldn’t be tolerated.
He was so coked out of his mind though. He lost control. He put his badge away and let the monster out. He beat the men mercilessly, and it would really look bad to have these sorts of men turning up dead in a police officer’s home.
No one on the force knew what he was doing, and he had to ensure it stayed that way. He had been preparing for retirement. He turned a blind eye to things and he got kickbacks. His retirement from the force was nothing compared to what he had already saved.
Yeah, so it was wrong.
No one was perfect.
He surveyed the area one last time before moving around to the back of his car, popping the trunk.
Yeah, no one would find the bodies way out here.
Desert lands and dirty cops.

Worth: A short story

This little ray of sunshine is from a 3 word prompt. The three words are:
1. water
2. lake
3. Pleasure
Elizabeth looked out over the still water. The lake was beautiful this time of year, and with the hot temperatures and little breezes, the water was often like a perfect sheet of glass.
She’d come here, to her family’s lake house with a purpose.
As she sat out on the back deck overlooking the lake waters, she sipped a glass of wine, thinking over things.
How could she let everything get so bad?
She no longer had any friends. She had pushed them all away. She was too demanding of them. She thought they could meet her needs, but in the end, they couldn’t, or wouldn’t.
So she shut herself away from everyone.
Her family was dispersed all over the world. She couldn’t bring herself to talk to them anyway. When she did speak to any of them, be it her parent or siblings, she put on a happy face, joked and laughed. She didn’t want anyone to know just how ruined her life was.
Just how worthless she was.
She finished off her glass of wine, pouring another. That was the last of that bottle.
She was mentally preparing herself. Telling herself this was the right thing to do.
Solitude. It was all she deserved.
Oh, but how she longed for more.
That’s what her life was amounting to. Nothing but longing for something she could never have.
Elizabeth finished off her glass of wine rather quickly. There was no reason to keep putting this off. The sun was dipping down beneath the horizon.
She stood, feeling light headed. Yes, a little more than just a buzz. She was teetering on drunk.
She walked down from the deck onto the shore of the tranquil, peaceful lake.
There was no one around for miles way out here.
She picked up some heavy stones, placing them into the pockets of her summer dress.
She then waded out into the lakes waters. It felt good against her heated skin. Not too cold, but cool enough.
Deeper and deeper she went, until she could barely touch the bottom.
She could have done this by slitting her wrists. She could have taken a bunch of pills. She could have used her father’s handgun.
She deserved the suffering that came with this action.
To drown.
There was a certain comfort in defeat. A pleasure.
As she step off the threshold of the edge into the deep, she didn’t even take a breath.
The rocked weighted her, the dress tangled about her legs, and her drunken state left her unknowing of which was what.
She allowed herself to be wrapped in the pleasure of death. She opened her mouth and sucked in as much water as her lungs could hold.
This, of course, kicked in the body’s natural preservation mode.
It was too late for that now. She had prepared too well.
Death came for her, offering her the sweet release she had long from her pathetic life.

Saturday, July 18, 2015

Instinct: A short story

Outside the cabin, the wind howled through the trees, and the cries of the wolves could be heard in every direction.
She didn’t want this. She thought they would never leave their own territory to look for her. Now here she was, waiting for them.
It wasn’t easy being a naturally occurring lycan. Packs had structure and traditions. Naturally occurring lycans didn’t happen often, and when they did, packs formed to keep the pure blood…well…pure. They were the top of the werewolf hierarchy. Unlike those people bitten or scratched by a werewolf, naturals were not controlled by the lunar cycle. And they had more than just one form. There were at least four wolfen form they could take. The packs were highly protective. The males domineering.
She had broken all of that. She didn’t want to be there, with who they said she needed to be with, doing what they said she needed to be doing. She was past prime breeding age. She didn’t want that at all.
So she fled. She started a new life. A good life. She loved it.
And it was all coming to an end now.
The pack wouldn’t be denied.
She’d either have to give in, or let the transformation happen. Even in Crinos form, she was no match. She could take two, maybe three down, but there was at least eight out there. All males.
She closed her eyes and listened to the sounds of the forest outside the small cabin. She made peace with fate.
It was time to die fighting.

Home: A short Story

This place is so beautiful. I’ve always wanted the country life. Well, it’s not really ‘country’, as in farmland and wide open spaces.
But it’s a peaceful place without many of the conveniences people have come to be dependent upon.
Out here, you can sit out on your deck and feel the wind in your hair. The sun rises and sun set are so damn beautiful.
I can’t believe I survived this long. I finally feel at home now.
And to make it my home, like any proper Lycan, I need to mark my territory.

Forethought: A short story

The stain will not come out. No matter how hard I scrub, no matter what cleaners I use. Hell, I even rented one of those steam cleaners from the supermarket.
What the hell am I going to do?
I know!
I’ll go get an area rug to cover it! Yes!
But…it’s in such an odd place…
Ugh… maybe if I get a big enough area rug, to cover most of the room, it will look okay, and not out of place.
At least I rolled his body onto a tarp before dragging him into the backyard.
He’ll make my garden bloom so lovely in the spring.

Friday, July 17, 2015

Zoe Shaming...I'm a horrid person!


Well. I’ve been posting all kinds of stories here on the blog. Let’s call it what it is…avoidance.
I am avoiding the fact that I keep fucking myself over…lol. Mind you, sometimes it’s a good thing.
I’ve ranted and vented before about my Role-play games and their communities. Nothing has changed there. You either sit at the ‘cool kids’ table, or you’re a loser. I fall into the ‘loser’ category.
I mean, one of my closest friends ever doesn’t even come to my defense when anything happens. What does that tell you? OH, yeah, she is queen of the cool kids table, btw. Her ass gets kissed more times a day than … well… I don’t know. It just gets kissed an awful lot. And that’s both In Character and Out of Character.
I get into a little tif with someone, do you think she tries to console me? Defend my point of view?
I post something. Does she compliment? Does she give constructive criticism?
The sad thing is, she KNOWS me. More than anyone else in this world. And she knows my personality type.
I am the type of person that needs validation. Appreciation. High fives and all that. And, it’s one thing to tell me in private, but a whole other to do so in public. In public, especially validating me, appreciating what I’ve put forth, keeps me motivated, makes me feel loved, and makes me feel special.
Blah. Shame on me. Shame on my personality type. Shame on Zoe. Shame on being me.
I know my faults, and I know my flaws. She does, too.
She hurt me in the worst way recently, and it was blatantly obvious, and yet she is either pretending to not know, or maybe is glad to have the break from me.
In the past, I’ve had to totally drop a person that had meant a lot to me because it was the safest and easiest way to deal with the situation. I hate to do that again, especially after so many years. But I’m not giving in. I’m not putting up with this bullshit. If she can’t see what was standing in her face, then, well, I suppose it’s time we part ways.
I’ve decided to stop playing that game. Well, not quit playing, I still move my character on the grid, but I am no longer participating in the community. They can all kiss my ass. I was never liked well, no big deal. Well, not anymore. It WAS a big deal, but then, I was like…why?
One person has stuck with me, surprisingly. We don’t interact in the In Character way, but they are always popping up to speak to me or say hi. We talk about the game from time to time, other than that, it’s all shits and giggles. It’s a shame we couldn’t make something work between our characters. Poop. His character and mine would rock socks.
On the other game, not much has changed there either. The person I was writing with dumped me. I created a new character. At least on this game, there is no Out of Character section on the forum. Most of these game forums have a ‘what are you thinking’ thread. This game doesn’t.
One of the downfalls of these forums is their need for a writing competition. What ruins it is the cliques. The Cool Kids. On either game, they all vote for one another. They all cheer one another along, they all kiss the same asses. And trust me, some of that writing is so cliché and crap.
Man, I’m whiney today. And bitchy.
But I think I needed this, because I really don’t have anyone to really unload on anymore. That person said that I ‘never called them’ and that it was always them reaching out to me. UTTER BULLSHIT. Yes, they called me more than I called them…there is a very valid reason for that. Several actually. This person has a family. This person has a job. I don’t want to interrupt anything, I don’t want to call and her still be at work. One of the little irks I had was getting a call from her as she was driving home from work, or to the grocery store. That makes for a what? 15 minute conversation? Then an ‘I’ll call you right back’…which never comes. ON TOP of that, I had to hear about how she talks to so and so at 1, 2, 3 AM or Skypes, or is in the chats.
The bullshit stops. If she can’t see what she’s done, and how she’s screwed herself, well. WELL.
I think I need to live in isolation. Just me, fat cat, awesome internet, books, Netflix, my laptop and PC rig. Oh, and I think I would have to kidnap one of my favorite Barista’s from the coffee shop to make me my Hammerheads. WHAT? I would feed them!!!
I guess I’m tired of feeling like I’ve done something wrong. People can very easily do that to me. But this time, NO. I am in the right here. If she can’t see it, so be it.
Now, on to more pleasant thing. I think tonight I may post up three short stories. Only to make up for the fact that two flash fictions I pour out today don’t even hit the 100 word mark…lol.
Fat cat is happy and fine, other than the slight misery of being so fluffy, shedding, and constantly harking up hairballs. She needs to be shaved so badly. But getting a new truck has to come first. Yeah, I still haven’t settled things with the Insurance Company. They were really low-balling the value of my truck, and I knew I could get a better, higher payoff. They finally agreed, but now there’s red tape and paperwork. Yesterday I had to send out a Power of Attorney to them. Now I have to wait for them to process paperwork before cutting me a check.
What sucks is, it’s going to take up to 15-20 days… I have to turn this rental vehicle in on Tuesday, or keep it and pay out of my own pockets. NOPE. My pockets aren’t deep enough right now.
Camp NaNoWriMo is going good. Thanks to daily writing prompt, most all I’ve shared with you all lately, have me on track with hitting my word count goal by the due date. Yay me.
After participating in NaNoWriMo last November, and then the two Camp NaNo’s this year, I’ve come to see that the big event in November is infinitely more fun. The people are more lively and enthusiastic and helpful. I made friends that still keep in touch. The little Camp NaNos, you are placed in a ‘cabin’ with just a few people. At first everyone is all raring to go, but then it all piffles out into silence. I was the last person to post anything by way of encouragement and pom-pom shaking.
Well, this was cathartic in a way. I got to make your eyes bleed!!! MAWHAHAHAHA…it was all my grand evil design. Make your head explode as I rant, vent and whine like an overgrown child.
Damn, I should have done more foot stomping.
Okay, my lovelies, I am off for a bit, but later on there will be some fresh short stories up!
~Hearts ya’ll~

Not Enough Time: A short story (RP Based)

This is a short story RolePlay I did between my characters in one of my RP games. It gives a little insight into a bond that can develop over years, and the trust between a vampire and a human that can be had. Just about a co-dependent relationship. I’ve played this character, Nemesis, for over 13 years now. I didnt develop the Creedy character until later but he’s evolved, and so has their relationship to one another. This was also written off of a first sentence starter ( The urge to interrupt him before he had finished..) on the RP site. I posted it there, but I’m like, a social pariah. No one reads my work…lol.
Anywho! I hope you enjoy!

The urge to interrupt him before he had finished was overwhelming, as Nemesis sat waiting patiently during Creedy’s rambling rant. He was pissed off at her. This was nothing new.
Her ever faithful butler had once again cleaned up one of her messes, and it would seem he was at wits end with her.
These times happened relatively often.
It was cause and effect really.
She caused problems.
He effectively cleaned them up. And effectively scolded her as if she was a teen, not a centuries old vampire.
Their relationship was a strange one. Yes, she was immortal and had lived a very long time now, pre-dating even his birth, but Creedy had a parental standing over Nemesis in some way. She allowed it. She actually liked it.
And though the man was red in the face and yelling at her at the moment… a vein had popped on his neck, too, which was endlessly funny to her… she sat there biting her tongue.
Any other vampire would have probably killed him by now. He was a human, a ‘servant’. Somehow, Nemesis didn’t see it that way. They had been together too long.
The man was pacing now. His arms flailed from time to time.
He spun, pointing a finger at her.
She smiled sweetly and batted her lashes.
This seemed to deflate the man. He stopped in mid-sentence, his arms falling limp to his sides.
His blue eyes looked to her green hues.
“What am I going to do with you?” He asked.
Nemesis simply shrugged.
“You know, I won’t be here forever.” He then said.
This caused Nemesis to frown. She promised him she’d never turn him. He didn’t want the life of an immortal. She was simply prolonging his life, keeping him in his prime. It was a temporary thing. She promised him that when he wished to die, she would let him.
The thought broke her heart.
She slid off the dining room table, moving to him. She looked up at him, brows furrowed. Without a word, she threw her arms around him.
“Not yet… I can’t do it without you…” She whispered against him. Her tone was serious.
The gentle giant wrapped his arms around her, kissing the top of her head. “But soon you will.”